


a turtleneck(that reeks of mold and dust and cat food)

by synfull



Category: Black Christmas (1974)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Smut, go crazy go stupid feral bastards just havin wholesome lovin secks, i wrote this instead of sleeping oops, who...wholesome........woahg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synfull/pseuds/synfull
Summary: just a short little ficlet of a relatively wholesome fuck between these two feral little bastards.a.k.a my oc syn somehow manages to convince manic shaky billy to just....y'know....not be wack for a bit
Relationships: Billy Lenz/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	a turtleneck(that reeks of mold and dust and cat food)

“Go slow, please.”

Billy looks up at the other man sheepishly, stunned by the sudden request.

“I’ve… Tonight’s been rough. I,” Billy is absolutely enamoured with every shape his mouth makes - those plump, soft, kissable lips. “I’m tired, I just want something soft for tonight. Please.”

“O-okay.”

Truth be told, Billy wasn’t entirely confident he even knew how to go slow. He’s never had experience before Syn,  _ being an attic dweller does that to you _ , he supposes. But Syn’s taught him a bit(like the importance of lubrication), more than those porn mags strewn about ever could. Billy will oblige, Billy’s a good boy.

Or they used to be strewn about, anyway. He wonders about those porn mags, where they’ve gone and who they’ve changed hands with over the years. He has a sudden craving for them. But there’s also Syn, straddling him and panting, and suddenly his craving for those magazines have faded for now. But he also thinks about cinnamon rolls,  _ Syn loves those, Syn loves those very much. Very, very, very much. A lot. Syn feels like a cinnamon roll sometimes, layered, sweet, warm, lots of things. Good with white stuff all over him. _ Very much. Billy licks his lips.

Syn initiates the kiss, leaving a second peck before moving Billy’s turtleneck aside. He trails down the ginger’s neck to his collarbone. Billy lets out a stammer and a moan with every mark, as if he was trying to repress them. Syn hums, hoping to calm Billy down a little and assure him he’s allowed to be loud. They’re in  _ their  _ bed now, not the attic back in some sorority house.

With a worried look in his deep brown eyes as he stares at Billy, he asks “You’re sure you want to do this?”.

Billy, however, suddenly wants to look anywhere but in Syn’s eyes.

There’s concern in his eyes, love... It feels foreign, Billy is taken aback.

“I need a yes, hun.”

“Y-yes. Yes, yes! Yes… Billy, Billy really wants this. Wants to go slow, wants to feel the insi-inside of you! Slowly. Billy will go slow, I’ll-” the rest is incomprehensible sputtering(with a last-minute “...Please.” tacked to the end for good measure).

There’s a slicked finger at Syn’s entrance, and Billy does as is routine. Such actions are perfunctory, but allows a wide-grinning Billy the chance to observe every change in expression and twitch in Syn’s mouth as he searches for that spot inside the brunet. He’s always able to find it, some hidden talent of his for which Syn will always thank him for.

One finger turns to two, another gasp and a moan escapes Syn’s mouth.

Two fingers turn to three, with gritted teeth Syn hisses, Billy knows it’s a hiss of pleasure.

Preparation out of the way, they quietly assume position. Syn’s legs wrapped around Billy’s waist. He’s distracted and downright giddy, kneading Syn’s butt as he’s allowed entrance, pushing further when Syn gives him the okay.

Syn’s head is buried in the turtleneck now, and he’s beyond relieved he spent time at the nearby clothing store getting Billy new clothes. It simply wouldn’t do to have to stuff his face in a turtleneck that reeks of mold and dust and cat food.

He closes his eyes and breathes in that fresh smell, citrusy and - most importantly - clean. Syn can’t recall the last time someone held him like this, the last time he’s ever felt safe in another person’s arms before the infamous Moaner.

Eventually they found a rhythm they were both comfortable with. Billy resists the urge to thrust at the usual manic speed he often employs, though Syn does notice that with the effort comes a look that makes it seem like he’s about to blow his load then and there. Syn hopes that isn’t the case.

“Nnngh—” Billy whines.

A snort, and a string of babbles and strung-together incomprehensible words and some vulgarities peppered in.

“Shh-shh-shush, shush.” Syn coos in response, patting the back of Billy’s head in an almost motherly fashion.

They continue to stay in that position, in each other’s embrace. Soft noises and a needy and long kiss as Billy cup’s Syn’s face in his hands. The pitter-patter of the rain on the window as they share their warmth.

Syn pulls away from the kiss, which almost scares Billy until he whispers “God, I love you, Billy.”

“Bil-I-I love you, I love you too. Billy loves you so much.”

“Thank you, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim after a particularly bad night, stress, and an abuse-induced breakdown. This isn't beta'd at ALL and I've not checked through it because I just needed the wholesome fucking outta my system. I've never successfully finished any smut fics before, but I hope the inexperience didn't show!


End file.
